Paths of the Chosen

Aidan
The Realms
Thirdday, 3rd week of the 7th month, Godless Age 597
Afternoon
Mistvale Highlands, en route to Ceallach Macht

Brighid and Aidan spent the rest of that day reviewing what little tactical knowledge they had of Ceallach Macht. It was a large city for the region, housing tens of thousands, perhaps even a hundred thousand, citizens at its height. The city core rested on and around the central hill of a Y-shaped valley, but the outskirts spread out into the lowlands. More than a thousand years abandoned, crumbled ruins were all that remained of the buildings; Mother Nature had long since reclaimed the land with root and branch. The main roadways, however, were well-constructed and, while partially overgrown, still quite distinct and passable.

With no specific knowledge of what awaited them inside the city, the adventurous duo decided to approach down the central avenue. Whatever evil ruled the area now would surely have minions, wards, or both throughout the city, so struggling through the ruins would offer only a slightly better chance at remaining undetected. The roads were likely to be more heavily patrolled, but they would also allow the pair to advance much more rapidly through the city. Brighid especially was not enthusiastic about her ability to be either quick or stealthy while moving through overgrown, crumbled buildings. Since they had no idea where they needed to go, staying mobile seemed the best idea.

The most likely enemies were plant-based undead called Manikins, created when vines created with evil magic infested a corpse, controlling it like the hand inside a puppet. Fortunately, Manikins were exceptionally vulnerable to fire damage, being both undead and plants. On the other hand, they were able to be animated remotely, which meant that anything they killed would rise to fight them again unless they burned the corpses to ashes. Unlike normal undead, Manikins could even be raised from the remains of other Manikins, so long as there was something for the creepers to manipulate physically; if the controller were powerful enough, they could even fashion replacement limbs out of plant matter.

Aside from Manikins, however, Brighid was unable to provide information on the monsters they would face. The Council sealed the city many years ago, and most of the living monsters they fought at the time would have died off by the present. Redcaps and sprites had short lifespans, and most of the more massive creatures needed to eat meat regularly. With the city cut off from the outside world, they shouldn't need to worry about Nightmares, Fomorians, Fathachs, or other powerful monsters. There were no guarantees, however, since they didn't know the nature of their ultimate opponent.

Once they finalized their plan, Brighid fished out two amulets from her saddlebags. Each bore an exceptionally intricate Celtic knot design made from delicate-seeming silver strands. She handed one to Aidan and put the other around her neck. "These are wardstones keyed to the barrier around Ceallach Macht. Without one of these, you cannot pass in or out of the protected area. Aidan, this is of the utmost importance: these cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the enemy. Prioritize retrieving my wardstone over rescuing me, and should I fall, destroy both stones unless you are certain beyond any doubt that you can escape. Even then, I would prefer you not to take the risk; leaving a key to the door inside the prison would make the situation ten times worse than if we never entered at all." Her voice was solemn, and her eyes sharp and severe.

Aidan swallowed, then nodded, placing his hand over his heart. "I promise, Brighid. The amulets will not fall into the enemies' hands if there is anything at all I can do about it. I can only hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me, too," Brighid responded with a weak, wan smile, bringing Aidan’s attention back to his companion. Neither of them spoke of the conditions which would force such a choice. Brighid cleared her throat, and in a more light-hearted voice, said, "We know we will be fighting Manikins, so tonight and tomorrow I want you to train your Fire Magic. Since your only spell is an attack spell—not unexpected given the school—you will learn best by attacking with it rather than just shooting off into the dirt. I have innate fire resistance thanks to one of my Traits, and it is high enough that any part of me covered by armor is immune to fire."

Brighid gave him a penetrating look. "So long as you keep your shots to my chest or back, you should not be able to hurt me. That will affect the Skill experience you gain, but it will still be better than the alternative, so if you promise to be careful, I will allow you to use me for target practice. By the time we reach Ceallach Macht, I would like you to be comfortable enough with your magic that you can cast it while running and dodging. That is less a matter of Skill and more one of practice. If you do not mind my asking, what is your affinity with Fire Magic?"

Aidan very briefly debated lying to her. "100%," he replied, truthfully.

She shot him an envious look and shook her head wryly. "If that is the case, then you should be able to reach Initiate in the Skill and get a second spell in the time we have. Such a high affinity will allow you to advance extremely rapidly at low Skill levels. What about Light Armor and Evasion?"

He hesitated longer, then mentally crossed his fingers and responded, "I would rather not say."

Brighid chuckled. "Men and their pride. Do not worry; I did not expect much from a mage. If your affinity is that low, there is no need to push it too hard."

"Let's not be too hasty," Aidan protested. "If I can get even one more level in each, it could be the difference between life and death, and you wanted me to practice casting while dodging anyway, right?"

The brilliant smile Brighid sent his way sent butterflies flitting through his stomach while simultaneously making him regret his deception. "That is an excellent attitude to have for an adventurer. Rest assured, I will put you through your paces." Her eyes twinkled with restrained mirth.

"Promises, promises. One of these days, I'll make you follow through on one."

"You will make me, will you? Perhaps you will try. Stronger males than you have failed." Despite her harsh words, Brighid's tone was one of pride and challenge, not offense or derision. Her eyes started to burn in a way that Aidan was beginning to realize was a sign of interest or arousal, not anger.

"Ah," Aidan pointed out airily, "but did they have magic hands? I may not be as well-muscled as one of you great big brutes, but there is more to strength than that."

"True," Brighid admitted, "but you have to catch me to use them."

Aidan shook his head and smirked up at her. "No, I don't. You'll come to me. All I have to do is remind you how good it felt. The more you resist, the more power you give those memories. Eventually, you'll ask me to wash you all over again; it won't matter whether you're trying to prove to yourself that it wasn't that good or craving a repeat performance. At that point, you'll be clay in my hands."

"You wear confidence well, but you will need more than that. Be sure you can back up your words when it comes time to test them." She rumbled.

Aidan's smile stretched wider. "Ah, so you admit that the time will come—you said 'when,' not 'if.' And I dare you to tell me that you aren't thinking of my touch right at this moment." Brighid lifted her chin defiantly but did not reply. "Don't worry," he teased her, "if you ask nicely, next time I'll finish the job. Then that 'when' will become an 'again!'"

"Promises, promises." She threw his words back at him. "Given how many tries it took you to complete your pampering duty, you will forgive me if I do not hold my breath for the fulfillment of this one."

Ouch. I left myself wide open for that one, Aidan thought, but she left an opening as well. Out loud, he said, "Oh, you don't need to worry about that. You'll be too busy calling out my name to even think of holding your breath."

"What, you think you will need that much correction? Where did all that confidence go?"

Aidan couldn't help but laugh, and Brighid joined him a moment later. Once their merriment died down, Aidan changed the topic. "So, how should I train my Fire Magic? Just keep casting Flame Jet on you? Is it more beneficial to maintain concentration for the full five seconds or to cast it many times rapidly with minimal duration?"

Brighid shot him an amused glance. "Do you not know how to ask one question at a time? You are like a yearling asking their mother how everything works and why it works that way, all at once. Anyway, yes, target my armored areas with your spell. As for how often to cast it, try to mix it up. Maintaining the magic for its full duration will earn you more Skill experience, but repeating it rapidly will do more to make it part of your muscle memory. Both are important for a combat mage."

Aidan nodded in acknowledgment and warned Brighid, "Alright, I'm going to start now." He slid the Ruby Rod out of its belt loop and pointed it towards Brighid's heavily-armored back.

Aidan
The Realms
Thirdday, 3rd week of the 7th month, Godless Age 597
Evening
Mistvale Highlands, en route to Ceallach Macht

By the time they stopped to camp for the night, Aidan had a throbbing headache and was so distracted by it that he nearly walked into Brighid when she halted. On the other hand, his Fire Magic Skill had advanced considerably, and he felt much more comfortable casting Flame Jet while moving.

Unfortunately, Brighid was not at all sympathetic and insisted that they train even more. "Do you think the manikins will let you go because you have a headache and your concentration is half-gone? It is more vital for you to train this now, not less. In fact, take up your sword as well. I want you to practice everything I have taught you all at once. We only have another day until we reach the outskirts of Ceallach Macht. You can rest once you complete your quest."

Aidan groaned but did as his companion commanded. Once he stood across from her, rod in one hand and blade in the other, however, he paused. "How am I supposed to cast Flame Jet with both hands occupied?"

Brighid rolled her eyes at him. "Draw the glyphs with the tip of your implement. You should have enough practice handling your rod by this point. Now, defend yourself and do your best to strike me with both sword and spell."

The training was brutal. Brighid attacked relentlessly, forcing Aidan to dodge continually. He tried counterattacking when he managed to evade cleanly, but for someone who had to weigh at least half a ton, the centaur was amazingly quick on her hooves. He didn't land a clean hit on her for the entire training session. The only offense he managed was splashing her with Flame Jet, and all his newfound muscle memory for casting while walking was doing him little good while jumping, rolling, and dancing from side to side to avoid lightning-fast strikes from the butt of Brighid's glaive. He even tried to maneuver behind her to strike from her blind spot, only to have her rear up on her forelegs and kick back at him. She pulled the strike an instant after starting and never connected with him, but it was enough for Aidan to take her message—she wasn't as defenseless from behind as he'd thought.

An hour and a half later, he collapsed into the nearby stream, barely able to hold his head above the water while he cast Patch Wounds on himself. He had five different prompts blinking at the edge of his awareness.

Exhausted, physically and mentally, Aidan picked himself up, briefly rinsed the day's sweat and grime off, and made his way back to the magically warmed and warded campsite. He didn't wait for Brighid to return from her bath and curled up with his head on his backpack. System: Log Out. Confirm.

Zurai

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